Rowan and Camilla were busily arranging what looked like a bunch of props behind the stage when Xan returned.

“Rose says she’d like to sit downstage right,” Xan said as he approached.

“Downstage right, got it. Thank ye, Xan,” Rowan said.

Xan paused. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me that Taika was back there?”

“Must have slipped me mind,” Rowan said, shrugging. For some reason, Xan had a nagging suspicion that he wasn’t being completely honest.

“Did it bother ye?” Rowan suddenly asked.

“What? Seeing her? No,” Xan said. But at Rowan’s look of scrutiny, he amended, “Well, not really. It’s just… we really left things off at a bad place. Even if I tried to talk to her again, I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Hmm…” Rowan sighed thoughtfully. Then he put a hand on Xan’s shoulder. “Don’t try to force the words, then. Just look for the opportunities as they come, and let the words come to ye.”

Xan shook his head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Talkin’s easy, lad. It’s the listenin’ that’s the hard part,” Rowan said.

A chime suddenly rang out over the air. The low hum of dozens of voices rose as the villagers began to gather on the other side of the stage. Rowan looked up at the sound, then patted Xan on the shoulder.

“Sounds like that’s our cue. Ye better head on over and get some food. We’ll be startin’ the show soon,” he said.

“Right. Thanks, Rowan,” Xan said.

He walked around the far end of the stage just in time to see Keeper Hovo stepping up onto it. The old Verdan held his hands up, and the hum of chattering voices lowered to hushed whispers. Once he had everyone’s attention, Keeper Hovo spoke:

“Today, we mourned the passing of our brother. Tonight, we gather to celebrate his life. We will begin the farewell feast momentarily, but first, let us have one last moment of silence in honor of the dearly departed.”

The hush turned to absolute silence as the villagers bowed their heads. Xan quickly followed suit as well, although as the moment dragged on he started stealing glances at the Verdans closest to him. Finally, Keeper Hovo raised his arms again.

“Let the farewell feast begin!” he announced.

The chatter amongst the villagers quickly resumed. They all began to surge towards the far end of the meal area to help themselves to the food. The press was so great that Xan, from where he had been standing on the outside of the crowd, was unable to push his way into a spot in line. As a result, he was the first person Keeper Hovo saw as he descended the stage.

“Ah, the Veiled Lady’s disciple,” Keeper Hovo said in a tone that Xan couldn’t quite place. Unsure of how he should react, Xan just smiled and bowed.

“Just Xan Rais is fine, sir,” he said. Keeper Hovo frowned at him.

“Just Xan Rais? Not ‘Captain’?”

Xan briefly froze mid-bow, thrown off by Keeper Hovo’s comment. Then he straightened up and smiled again.

“Of course, I meant ‘Captain’ as well, sir,” he said.

“Hmph. Very well, Captain Rais. Will you and your crewmate be staying with us long?” Keeper Hovo asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t be polite for us to leave in the middle of the festivities, now would it?” Xan replied, gesturing at the crowd of Verdans digging into their meal.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I see. Then you will be leaving tomorrow?” Keeper Hovo asked.

Now it was Xan’s turn to frown. He had surmised from the outset that Keeper Hovo wasn’t fond outsiders, but now the old Verdan was being quite forward with his questions. It irked him.

“I wish, sir, but if you recall, our boat sustained some heavy damage during the journey here. We will need time to repair it,” he said.

Keeper Hovo sniffed disdainfully. “Very well. Bedros will show you to your accommodations once the farewell feast is over. You may stay until your boat is repaired.”

Xan bowed once more in a gesture of thanks. But as Keeper Hovo walked away, he muttered under his breath, “And not a second longer, I’d wager.”

With a frustrated sigh, he turned back to join the remaining Ignas Verdans who were still helping themselves to their meal.

After grabbing a plateful of root vegetables, venison, and fresh bread, Xan meandered back through the meal area. Most of the Ignas Verdans were gathering in groups around the pits containing the Ember Sang crystals. Xan sidled his way between them, looking for an inconspicuous place to sit. Then he spotted a familiar mouse-like silhouette.

“Dee!” he called to her. Dee’s ears twitched at his call. Then she turned around to see him, looking slightly surprised and with a mouth already full of food.

“Dee! It’s good to see you,” Xan said, sitting down next to her.

Dee stared at him for a moment. Then she scowled at him, swallowed her food, and turned away.

“Oh, so you’ve remembered me, then?” she said angrily. Xan was taken aback by the sudden harshness in her voice.

“Dee, what do you – I don’t understand,” he said.

Dee didn’t say anything. She just continued to eat her food, until Shadow tried to steal some venison off of her plate.

“No, not for you!” Dee said, holding her plate up with one hand while shooing Shadow away with the other. It was just the pause Xan needed to process his thoughts.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad at me, too,” he groaned.

“Well, how do you expect me to feel?” Dee said. “I’m alone and miles away from home with no way to get back because somebody crashed Aunt Stell’s boat.”

Xan opened his mouth for an angry retort. But then something made him pause. Rowan’s words about how listening is the hard part came back to him. So he closed his mouth. He looked at Dee. And he suddenly realized how she must be feeling.

“You’re right,” he said softly. Dee didn’t say anything, but she did glance suspiciously at him out of the corner of her eye.

Xan selected a juicy piece of venison from off of his plate. He dangled it out in front of himself and whistled. Shadow scampered over, then reared up onto her hind legs. She squeaked loudly until Xan tossed the venison to her.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Xan said slowly. “It was my fault that we crashed.”

“Hmph. At least you admit it,” Dee said.

“We probably wouldn’t have crashed if we had stopped for the night,” Xan continued. “I was just… afraid. Afraid that if we did, we wouldn’t be able to save him.”

“So it’s true, then?” Dee asked, and Xan looked down at her. “You knew he wasn’t going to make it?”

“Not exactly…” Xan sighed. “I just knew he was running out of time.”

There was a long pause. Then Dee looked up at him curiously.

“Why did you help them, then?” she asked.

“Because… because they saved my life. I wanted to return the favor…. But what about you?”

Dee shook her head.

“I was just trying to help Aunt Stell. She was the one who chose to help you,” she objected.

“Still,” Xan said, “you didn’t have to volunteer to come with us. But you did. And we wouldn’t have made it here without your help.”

“You’re just saying that,” Dee said, waving a hand dismissively.

“I’m serious, Dee,” Xan said, leaning forward to look her in the eye. He held her gaze for a long moment, before she looked away. He could have sworn he saw her blushing underneath her fur.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” Dee said sadly. “We’re still stuck high and dry with a broken boat and no way to get home.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Xan said, straightening up. “Between the two of us, I’m sure we can get her sea-worthy again. Or should I say, sky-worthy?”

Dee chuckled. The sound of it gave Xan a small sense of relief, and he smiled too.

“So, what do you say, Dee? Care to join my crew one last time?”

He offered her his hand. After a moment Dee took it.

“Alright,” she said as they shook hands, “but only until we get back to Vaimea. Then you’ll have to answer to Aunt Stell for the damages you caused to her boat.”

Xan hissed, wincing at the idea of facing the wrath of the little shipwright.

“I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?” he said.

“So much trouble, you have no idea!” Dee said with a hearty laugh.

Just then a bright light flared up from the direction of the stage. Xan and Dee both turned to see that the hanging canvas had been lit up from behind. The silhouette of a large, lush tree was being projected onto it. Rowan stepped up onto the stage, spreading his arms in a gesture of welcome.

“Good evening, cousins of Ignas!” he said in a voice that easily carried over all present. “We hope that you are enjoying your meal. I know I certainly did!” The villagers laughed. Then Rowan continued:

“As part of tonight’s farewell feast, Keeper Hovo has so graciously allowed us to provide you with some entertainment. For tonight’s presentation, we have decided to honor our dearly departed cousin by sharing the story of the origin of our people. So please, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!”